


Home, Where You Are

by kiite



Category: One Piece
Genre: Character Study, Comfort, M/M, Usopp-centric, but i love them so, the usosan can be read as platonic it’s not explicitly romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:00:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24427654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiite/pseuds/kiite
Summary: On Usopp, and the subject of home.
Relationships: Usopp & Vinsmoke Sanji, Usopp/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 14
Kudos: 132





	Home, Where You Are

Ever since his mother had died, Usopp’s house hadn’t felt like a home. 

There were traces of a home, lingering in the house like wisps of smoke spiraling up from the final embers of a dying fire. The bookshelf on the far wall; the shelves were lined with books, pages filled with tales of fantastical adventure and bravery. Usopp’s only enduring memories of his father were tied to that bookshelf— him, as a small child, begging his father to read him another story. 

Then there was the painting above the bed. It was a lovely scene of the ocean, framed by soft green leaves— a familiar scene from the cliffs at the outskirts of Syrup Village. It was his mother’s last painting, the final time she had had the strength to make the trip out to the cliffs with her easel under her arm. Once she had become bedridden, she had looked at it often. Usopp wondered if she had been recalling her last memory of the ocean. She had loved the ocean. 

As time marched on, though, Usopp’s memories faded, becoming soft around the edges and harder to hold on to. The bookshelf was a collection of dusty volumes that hadn’t been touched in years. The painting blended into the wall, becoming a fixture of the home. Usopp hardly spared it a glance anymore. 

It was his house, yet it was not his home. 

When the day came for Usopp to leave, pack overflowing with supplies for the adventure ahead of him, he didn’t feel any regret at leaving the house behind. Part of him wished he did; he wished he had to drag himself out the door, teary eyed and mournful at having to leave the house in which he had grown up. But even Usopp couldn’t lie to himself about that.

* * *

Usopp loved the Merry more than he could put into words. 

He loved the people on the Merry just as much. 

Living with people again after so long was an adjustment, but it was one Usopp made easily. The first day that he woke up to the smell of breakfast cooking and gentle humming drifting over from the kitchen, Usopp almost cried. He couldn’t quite say why, but he was pretty sure it had to do with the image of his mother in his head.

When Chopper first patched him up, Usopp was uncharacteristically silent. His mind was occupied with memories of bandaging his scrapes and cuts in his empty house, and then something further, something less clear, his father lifting him up under the arms and telling him that brave warriors of the sea didn’t cry over little scrapes. Chopper didn’t say anything of the sort, but still, Usopp couldn’t help thinking about it.

On the Merry, Usopp took up art again. His mother had taught him plenty of things when he was young— they had drawn together, painted together, and Usopp had done it all with the utmost eagerness. After she passed, he had still practiced from time to time, but his desire to make art dwindled. It felt too empty to create pieces for no one to look at. 

But the Merry rekindled what he had lost, so simply, as though he had never stopped. He wanted to draw everything, record it all to paper as though it was his own record of his adventure. He drew the Merry, from every angle he could think of, he drew his crew, he drew the seabirds and fish and anything else that might pass them by on the seas. And the seas— he drew the seas, of course. 

There was a painting, one he had been working on for a few days. It was simple, depicting his captain’s back as he sat on Merry’s figurehead, staring out at the seas ahead. Always looking forward. Usopp liked that image quite a bit, so he committed it to canvas. 

Sanji had leaned over his shoulder as Usopp finished it up in the galley, setting a cup of rose tea on the table beside him— but careful to set it a safe distance away from Usopp’s piece.

“Would you mind if I put it up in the galley when you’re finished?”

Usopp was surprised by the request. “Uh, sure. You really want to?”

Sanji smiled, moving to the sink to wash the dishes from dinner. “You’re not the only one who likes that view, you know.”

Usopp watched the chef’s back for a moment, before he turned back to his work, gently applying the final brushstrokes to the piece. Usopp smiled; Merry wasn’t just his home— she was all of their homes, now.

She was their home, and they loved her.

* * *

“There’s something I couldn’t say back then— I didn’t know how to say it.” 

Sanji looked over to Usopp, cigarette between his fingers. “Back when?”

“Water Seven.” 

“Ah,” was all Sanji said, looking back out at the ocean as he leaned against the railing of their new ship. “Well, I’m listening.” 

Usopp didn’t know how to start, but Sanji didn’t push him. “Merry was… She was more than just a crewmate, and more than a gift from Kaya. She was— I think she was the first place in a long time that felt like a home to me.” He sighed, resting his chin on his folded arms. “I was so scared of losing that place, that it made me push you all away…”

Usopp could feel Sanji’s gaze on him. The smell of cigarette smoke drifted around the two of them, an odd little comfort to Usopp. “You know, I didn’t live on the Baratie all my life.” 

Usopp tilted his head, cheek pressed into his arms as he looked up at Sanji. He wasn’t sure exactly where the man was going, but he liked hearing Sanji talk. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Sanji said, breathing out smoke. “I lived a few other places before I met the old geezer. But the Baratie was the first place that ever felt like a home to me. When Luffy asked me to leave and join his crew, I…” Sanji tapped the toe of his shoe against the deck a few times, creating a steady rhythm. “I was scared. Scared that I was going to leave behind the only good home I’d ever had, and scared that I’d never find another one.”

“But Luffy got you to join, huh?” Usopp asked with a soft smile. He hadn’t been around to witness Sanji’s joining on the Baratie, but he hadn’t been surprised when Luffy showed up to Cocoyashi with the cook in tow. When Luffy set his eyes on someone, they always ended up joining.

“Basically had to drag me kicking and screaming up until the end, but yeah,” Sanji said with a grin. “I think when I saw Luffy fighting to protect the Baratie, the most important thing in the world to me, I knew I’d be alright if I went with him. But I was still scared, still clinging to the only comfort I’d ever known.”

“Are you glad you joined?” Usopp asked, pretty sure he already knew the answer.

“I am,” Sanji replied, his voice laced with fondness. “Plus, I wouldn’t have met you again if I hadn’t come along.” 

Usopp snorted, slinging his arm around Sanji’s shoulders. “You’re so cheesy, dude.” 

Sanji chuckled, flicking his dying cigarette into the ocean. “Oh, shit, hold on,” Sanji said suddenly, ducking out under Usopp’s arm and disappearing into the men’s cabin. He reappeared moments later, holding something under his arm. Handling the object gently, Sanji held it out for Usopp to take. 

Once it was in his hands, Usopp realized it was a carefully rolled up piece of canvas cloth. As he unrolled it in his hands, Usopp couldn’t stop a small gasp from slipping out. “This…”

Sanji moved a hand to the back of his neck, looking away. “I, uh, grabbed it when Merry came back to save us,” Sanji explained. “Wanted to ask your permission before I put it back up.” 

Looking at his own painting, something he hadn’t even thought about since the loss of the Merry, Usopp finally understood how his mother had felt when she had painted her final work. Capturing a view that was so very important, but could never be seen in person again. Making solid a fleeting memory. 

This time, Sanji was the one to put his arm around Usopp and pull the sniper towards himself. “We’ll never let you feel like you don’t have a place to belong again, Usopp. We’ll be your home, alright?” 

Usopp sniffled, rolling his piece back up to avoid spilling any tears on it. “Yeah,” he responded, his voice wavering a bit. He leaned his head on Sanji’s shoulder, the smell of smoke and the sea— the smell of home— clinging to his suit. “Alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> i love Usopp sm 🥺 ty for reading!


End file.
